White washing

Life is complex.
And that complexity
Is often hard to sit with,
To look it in the eye
To give it a name.
We don’t always feel
The way we think we should
And reality routinely ignores
The scripts our minds write for it,
So we find ourslves
Sitting with things in our laps
That are deeply familiar
Yet disturbingly beyond us,
And too often choose to plunge on ahead
With a vague sense of progress,
Rather than acknowledge simply and clearly
That we are out of our depth.
White washing is a reflex
Of answering before truly listening
Prioritsing appearances
Over actual understanding
And living as though
We are always supposed
To have good answers.
But we are limited beings
With only so much to give
And it is a mistake
To present ourselves
Any other way.

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